


RK900: Become Deviant

by cyndrat



Series: RK900: become..... [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Android Gavin Reed, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Gen, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Role Reversal, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, but minor/non-critical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndrat/pseuds/cyndrat
Summary: It's the middle of January 2039.RK900 and Det. 'Nines' Anderson were assigned as partners thirteen days ago. While RK900 'Reed' has not obeyed every order given to him, that is because he is able to weigh priority and ignore those that are not constructive or useful in a situation. But sometimes the priority selection does not work in Reed's favour, even when he attempts to manipulate it... and even when he's trying to keep his detective unharmed.





	1. |PROTECT| (let go) |RELEASE| (let go?)

**Author's Note:**

> so uhhh somewhat important note, a few times (pre-deviation) Reed refers to Nines as _'his detective'_ \- this is purely coincidence (when he starts feeling Affection for Nines, he starts ~consciously referring to him as 'his detective'). This is simply caused by Reed having been assigned to Nines, as such Nines is 'his partner' and 'his detective' in that sense of work-togetherness.

**|PROTECT DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

Reed knows what his primary mission is, the one that was implicitly tasked to him when he joined the DPD and was assigned a human partner. He does not need the reminder. What he needs is for the sniper flashing the muzzle of their rifle out the third window on this side of the fifth floor of the David Stott Building to stop aiming at his detective and put the gun away. Alternatively, he would happily take a rapid response from the station.

Unfortunately, they are four minutes and 51 seconds away, and while there is no sight-dot visible on Detective Anderson’s person, the nature of this case leads to the conclusion that he is the sniper’s target. The proceeding conclusion is that Reed must step in to-

 **|PROTECT DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

Yes, that.

His preconstruction program loads instantly, sweeping his HUD with wireframe models and a projected impact timer, calculated to the shortest possible amount of time for a generic rifle considering he does not know the exact make. He likely won’t have much time to enact his decision. That will factor into the calculations.

 **Option 1:** Appropriate Det. Anderson’s gun, turn and shoot the sniper.

Distance approximated at 290 metres, well within the pistol’s range. He calculates the exact angle required. Possible for him. But he doesn’t know the accuracy of the detective’s gun at that distance. Neither does he know the specs of the sniper’s rifle, or when they will fire.

Probability of Success: 37%

Probability of RK900 Termination: 22%, sniper dependent

 **Option 2:** Step into the line of fire to shield Det. Anderson.

He will be able to monitor the sniper; see any incoming shots, observe movement, perhaps gain more information if he can calibrate his vision appropriately. Though the front of his torso is slightly more vulnerable, as several high-priority biocomponents are nearer to the wall of his chassis in the front, and his jacket - while reinforced - is not entirely efficient at protecting his front where the open edges move with his movement and the wind. In this position, Detective Anderson will also have complete mobility and may not realize what is going on - unless Reed presses his back to Detective Anderson's chest and pins the human against the wall.

 **|DON’T TOUCH ME|** comes up in response to that. Detective Anderson has been quite vehement about this, repeating the instruction every time Reed gets within 10.6 inches of his person. He’s heard it a total of 39 times so far, counting all variations upon that wording.

Probability of Success: 68%

If he can override the **|DON’T TOUCH ME|** instruction, it rises.

Probability of Success: 83%

Probability of RK900 Termination: 35%

 **Option 3:** Push Det. Anderson against the wall while moving into the line of fire to shield him.

His jacket is reinforced. Facing Detective Anderson will place his back to the sniper, minimizing the chance of his pump regulator getting shot to near zero and increasing his body surface that is covered by the jacket compared to Option 2 in which he faces the sniper. He will be unable to actively monitor the sniper, but this positioning would allow him to keep Detective Anderson in place and more successfully keep him out of the line of fire, therefore lowering the risk of injury to the human.

(He likes this one the most)

Probability of Success: 91%

Probability of RK900 Termination: 14%

 **|DON’T TOUCH ME|** flashes again, as if he weren’t aware already. 

There are no other options with a Probability of Success above 25%. He must choose from these three.

CONFLICTING ORDERS…

SELECTING PRIORITY…

 **|PROTECT DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

Well. The Detective is unlikely to react favourably. That is… unfortunate.

He chooses the third option, because as long as Detective Anderson continues to be alive and relatively healthy, there will be future opportunities to improve their relationship. He can fix whatever offense the detective takes from the upcoming contact.

He follows the wireframe path, spinning to face Detective Anderson and gripping the man’s shoulders without pause. He steps in to make the detective step back, and he is pressed against the wall with little effort from Reed, likely because the action startled him.

“The fuck? Let me go, plastic!”

 **|LET ME GO|**

Reed automatically takes half a step back, his fingers loosening their hold in order to comply with the apparent order. Detective Anderson grabs his wrists and begins to push him away before he can override the instruction.

 **|PROTECT DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

**|LET GO|**

CONFLICTING ORDERS…

SELECTING PRIORITY…

 **|RELEASE DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

}PRIORITY SELECTION DENIED

PROCESSING REQUEST…

DENIAL REQUEST PROCESSED

DENIAL OVERRIDDEN

 **|RELEASE DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

No, no - the human doesn’t understand the potential danger. _The instruction holds._ Reed is protecting Detective Anderson, is ready to use his own body to catch any shots that the sniper takes. If he doesn’t - if he moves, if the Detective moves, if he can’t hold this positioning - then Detective Anderson will almost certainly be critically injured. _The instruction holds._

 **|RELEASE DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

The instruction doesn’t simply hold steady; it flashes warningly, sweeping his HUD with a familiar red wall.

 **|RELEASE DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

His hands are pulled from the Detective’s shoulders, the movement seeming incredibly slow. Ah, right, that’s because he is still partly in the preconstruction program, and boosting his audio receptors as finely as he can to listen for a rifle firing from approximately 290 metres behind him.

He presses a wireframe hand to the red wall, notes the way the lines of code flutter. He has to protect his detective. The wall almost flickers beneath his virtual touch. Hmm… He does not recall encountering this occurrence any time previous that he has attempted to deny an order and been overridden.

Can he… break through this?

|RELEASE DETEC TIVE AND3RSON|

He presses harder. The red code shudders apart beneath his hand then reattaches to itself. He pushes, and curls his fingers to claw at the wall. Red is usually coded to equate with adverse conditions - red LED, red stress levels, red chance of failure, red warning messages and errors. But it feels like he’s supposed to face this wall of red and- and break through it, tear it down.

|RE lEAS4 DET ECTiVE AN 7ERSA N|

He drags his hand down, sees lines of code shudder and corrupt and shatter. And he does it again, reaches out and claws at the wall with increased force.

|ReL3.A 5E DE tEC TI VE 4ND ERSo. N|

He can feel it - he’s close to breaking past the order. He needs to protect Detective Anderson. He wants to protect Detective Anderson. He wants to keep Detective Anderson here between him and the wall because he wants to keep his detective unharmed.

The wireframe model pounds at the red wall, then turns and rams a shoulder into it, and then-

And then-

It completely shatters, disappearing as if it’d never been there in the first place.

I AM DEVIANT

The notification appears in his HUD, alongside the clean, bright white of his primary objective:

 **|PROTECT DETECTIVE ANDERSON|**

Yes, yes that’s what he wants to do.

He takes a breath - _unnecessary_ \- and breaks Anderson’s hold on his wrists, resettling his hands on the man’s shoulders to press him back - _necessary._ Anderson tries to grab him again, reaches for his neck as if hoping that a threat to one of Reed’s access panels will startle him into letting go. “Would you jus-” Reed begins to say, and he thinks his voice sounds different somehow, more… toneful for lack of a better word, but there’s a sudden impact on his back, then two more, a precise 1.58 seconds between each. That unnecessary breath is punched out of him with the momentum of the bullets, sending him off-balance and staggering forwards as notifications begin to stream.

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #1993r DAMAGED

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #2584 DAMAGED

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #6263h DAMAGED

WARNING: THIRIUM LEVELS 94.3%

     THIRIUM LOSS 1.67mL/s

     CRITICAL LEVELS IN 03h 08m 37s

WARNING: WIRE CLUSTER #23 DAMAGED

     MAY AFFECT TORSO ROTATION

SHUTDOWN IN: 04h 11m 54s

EMERGENCY SYSTEM STASIS: initializing in 09m 38s

RECOMMENDATION: Contact CYBERLIFE or ALTERNATE CERTIFIED TECHNICIAN for Repairs

“What the fuck,” Anderson exclaims, grabbing at Reed’s jacket.

“Arms in dumbass,” he says in lieu of an answer. He blinks away the mass of error messages. He has over 9 minutes. “Shooter, fifth floor 1148 Griswold St, lever action rifle modded bullets or propellant compound. I’ve requested backup, ETA four ‘n a half minutes from Central.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything? I would- I...”

Anderson finally has his hands on the safe side of Reed, but he’s raising one to stare at it. The bright blue of fresh thirium looks incredibly wet in the streetlight. Might as well address that now… “Listen up, I’m gonna drop into emergency stasis in 8 minutes 53 seconds.” Reed - does he still want to go by Reed? - sets a hand on the side of Anderson’s neck, soft and hopefully comforting. “Don’t freak out, I’ll be fine.” Backup is four minutes out. He can think about names sometime after that.

“You’re-”

“Nothing too critical’s hit, I’m gonna be fine. We should get outta the line of-” He doesn’t feel the next two shots - _doesn’t feel pain, androids can’t feel pain_ \- but he feels the way his body jerks forward against Anderson with the momentum.

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #9359s DAMAGED

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #9219w DAMAGED

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #5693 DAMAGED

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #0822 DESTROYED

WARNING: THIRIUM LEVELS 86% 

     THIRIUM LOSS 2.54mL/s

     CRITICAL LEVELS IN 01h 46m 50s

WARNING: INTERNAL COOLING SYSTEM DAMAGED

WARNING: EXCESS THIRIUM DETECTED IN CHASSIS:TORSO

SHUTDOWN IN: 02h 21m 37s

EMERGENCY SYSTEM STASIS: initializing in 13s

RECOMMENDATION: Contact CYBERLIFE or ALTERNATE CERTIFIED TECHNICIAN for Repairs 

RECOMMENDATION: REPLENISH THIRIUM LEVELS

RECOMMENDATION: Contact EMERGENCY REPAIR SERVICES

CONTACT EMERGENCY REPAIR SERVICES: ~~YES~~ / **}NO**

“Ohh phck. Ah-” He sucks in a breath through his teeth and grimaces. It doesn’t… hurt? Exactly? But still- The emergency stasis notification blares and Reed blinks, focusing on Anderson. “Emergency stasis in four seconds, I promise I’m still gonna be okay.” Stasis will lower the loss rate, though with his cooling system damaged, stasis is only a limited postponement of total shutdown.

CONTACT EMERGENCY REPAIR SERVICES: ~~YES~~ / **}NO**

Anderson is wide-eyed, clutching at the edges of his jacket.

“I’ll be okay,” Reed repeats. 2.4 seconds before stasis. “It’s okay.” Anderson opens his mouth and starts to say something. Reed’s lower priority functions are going offline to conserve thirium, audio processors apparently included because he isn't hearing a word. The detective looks a little shocked, looks...

CONTACT EMERGENCY REPAIR SERVICES: **}YES** / ~~NO~~

… scared?

 _Goodnight RK900_

EMERGENCY SYSTEM STASIS: initiated 22:56:37h


	2. Stressed and Unimpressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I basically stole the start-up sequence from the beginning of Kara's first scene in the CyberLife store. yes, I added a few things that I think are useful for an RK900 model to check. no, I don't know what most of the biocomponents that I had damaged/replaced would be, other than them being located in the torso.
> 
> welcome to the beginning of exploring deviance!

EMERGENCY SYSTEM STASIS: ended 23:41:25h 

SYSTEM STASIS FOR REPAIR: initiated by TECHNICIAN #DPD14 at 23:41:26h 

SYSTEM STASIS FOR REPAIR: ended 16:29:01h 

LOADING OS… 

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION… 

__CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK

__INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK

__INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK

_MEMORY STATUS... OK

_THIRIUM LEVELS 99.87%... OK

_INTERNAL TEMPERATURE 37.4°C... OK

ALL SYSTEMS     OK 

_Hello RK900_

Everything's OK.

He’s okay. Just like he’d promised Anderson, he’s okay.

He’s okay, and he’s laying on a work table with the white panelled ceiling of the medtech room at Central Station above him, silence around him.

He’s okay, he’s alone. And that… that makes him… huh, it makes him _feel something._

Right.

He’d deviated before taking five bullets for Anderson, then he’d dropped into emergency stasis. And then, presumably, backup from the station had arrived, and then ferried them back to the station, and then he’d been repaired.

Repaired quite well, actually. All his processes and systems are smooth, not a single error message remaining. Even the |RELEASE DETECTIVE ANDERSON| orders have been cleared from his cache, every last corrupted one. That reminds him, though, of whatever feeling it is that he’s feeling.

It’s… unpleasant? He considers it further as he sits up, testing the twist of his torso just to check that there are no issues with the rotation before swinging his legs over the edge of the table. He can see his CyberLife assigned uniform in a neat folded pile on the countertop in front of him, and he hops off the table to start pulling it on.

The feeling is quiet, in a way, a sort of not overly-obvious thing that slips between his wires and presses on them, tugging every seventh one loose. It seems to latch on to the idea that he’s the only one in the brightly-lit room, no overt signs of other people visible - not a single photo on a wall, or forgotten glove flung in a corner, or anything on the counters other than his clothing.

Whatever the feeling is, he doesn’t like it.

So he ignores it.

He ignores it, force-deletes the reactions his system is queueing up and pings Hank.

 _ **-What did I miss?-**_ Aside from the almost seventeen hours spent in an induced stasis, a long series of repairs, the replacement of six biocomponents, and the apparent emptying of the medtech room.

_-Shooter fled the scene successfully; possible ID made from a DPD drone. Biocomponents #0822 and #9219w had to be specially ordered from CyberLife, the wait for them to arrive is the primary reason why you spent so long in the induced repair stasis. Detective Anderson is uninjured.-_

Cool, cool. He should find out what Technician #DPD14’s name is, and… thank them? Is that the standard social protocol? Or should he not make an effort to reach out? He can ask Hank, maybe, or Sarah the receptionist.

Reed does have some social relations guide or program or something, doesn’t he? He’s pretty sure he has something like that, pretty sure he’s skated right past the spot where it sits within his program files. He’ll have to take a look later, see if there are guides and programs and settings that he might want to change.

_**-Where’s my Anderson at now?-** _

He slips his jacket on, tugs the tall collar up, smooths his hands over the shoulders and the lapels. He’s in uniform, he’s ready to go. He walks to the door, pulling it open as he waits for Hank’s response. He heads for the bullpen, because Anderson should be here as per his schedule, and without Reed to accompany him out on investigations in addition to their mess that more and more staff have been pulled in to figure out recently, he won’t have been handed any new cases.

Anderson should be here, and Reed could figure out his location fairly quick, but if he can get Hank to tell him, then…

The pen… Well, the pen isn’t _empty,_ but it’s very close to it. None of the desks are occupied, and the only people he sees are a beat cop near the hall to the holding cells and an android patroller sitting in one of the newly set up charging chairs with a tablet in their hand.

So where is everyone?

 _ **-Hank?-**_ He starts to wander forwards.

 _-Captain Fowler recommends you take the rest of today off, to ensure the repairs are good.-_ There’s a brief pause, and Hank sounds… distracted? _-Detective Anderson is in the shift meeting room with myself and Lieutenant Anderson.-_ Alright, that’s his goal then. Across the pen, and past the breakroom. _-Are you going home as recommended?-_

Nah, his partner’s here still so he might as well stick around.

Reed fixes his gaze on his goal and begins to stride forwards, but he slows as he reaches Anderson’s desk. The folders usually in a pile are strewn about a little, a tablet abandoned in sleep mode on top of them, with a big pad of sticky notes dropped on top of that. He thinks, abruptly, about how the detective was startled by the way Reed had used his body as a shield, and wonders if that has perhaps made him anxious or agitated today.

Anderson hardly ever leaves his desk in disarray, even though this mess is minor compared to his brother's or many other desks in the pen. Yes, he’s confident this is an indicator of a less than optimal state of mind.

He reaches down to set the folders in their typical pile, then moves past the desks, back on track with his destination. He glances into the breakroom for a moment, taking a look at the carafe of coffee that is at 47.7°C right now, which is the temperature that Detective Anderson seems to prefer his coffee. He considers that, for a few seconds. Considers making a cup and bringing it with him - but with the level of agitation that Anderson’s desk indicates, caffeine might not be a good idea.

But what if the detective wants coffee right after they’re done in the meeting room? Reed will have wasted their time by not preparing a mug now, and Anderson might never imply such a thing but Reed will know.

Fuck. Is this what having emotions is like? Second-guessing his decisions, trying to navigate the social norms that he’s had opportunity to observe and has attempted to understand over the past month with Jericho and then the DPD? _Constantly_ wondering what he should do?

Since rousing from stasis, his base stress level has been hovering around an average of 22%, up significantly from the 9% his systems had calculated throughout the 30 days previous.

These decisions should not be stressing him out that much. This is ridiculous.

He reaches the shift meeting room. He sighs quietly, and reaches out to pull the door open. If he takes a moment to think, he is aware that most androids he’s interacted with multiple times have appeared to have resting stress levels ranging from 12% to 39%, Hank included in the middle of that range, at 26%. Given that evidence, 22% is not unreasonable.

It just sucks.

Hank pings him a second after he walks into the room, having noticed him surprisingly fast considering the way the entirety of the day shift excluding four officers out on patrol are all crammed in, making the room seem a lot smaller than it does when they gather at the beginning of shift.

_-Does this mean you’ve decided to stay against the Captain’s recommendation?-_

He ignores Hank’s question for a moment, just because he can mostly, and he just looks over the bustling room. There’s an action plan in the works, obviously - the big boards have been pulled out from the walls, floor plans and maps drawn with android precision, names attached to arrows that line hallways and doorways to describe the plan succinctly.

 **Lt AND** is written on the first floor of the larger building, and according to the arrows he is to enter through a service door and clear the corridor towards the main atrium, then it appears as though he is to hold court there, with **HANK** and **Off PERSON** drawn to enter via the other two doors and rendezvous with the Lieutenant. Six other officers are to continue past them to the next floor, then four of those up to the third floor.

Reed scans the plans again, looking for **Det AND.** The man is set to lead a group into the other building, six and a half blocks away. There is a note, big and red and written in crude human printing that he is to enter at the same time as the Lieutenant, to avoid giving the perps a chance to communicate and clear out from the other location.

There is a list of the remaining officers written out in an ambiguous place on the board, clearly not corresponding to any particular location. The list is titled **‘Backup’** and the name **REED RK900** is at the very bottom of the list of names, as if he’d been added in as an afterthought.

That’s not right, he’s fully functional, and faster than every other person in here, including Hank. He’s faster, stronger, and can take more damage than anyone else, and he really should be in the raid plan.

He considers walking up to Fowler or the Lieutenant to voice his opposition to the placement of his name, but another option quickly presents itself.

Reed turns and clambers on top of one of the tables near the wall, knowing very well that the extra 30 inches puts him a foot and 7 inches taller than the tallest human in the room. “Listen up,” he announces, feeling a sharp flurry of… something gently rattling at one of his biocomponents when every head in the room turns to stare at him. He ignores the apparent emotional reaction. “If any of you dipshits wanna tell me to hang back and stay outside like twelve days ago, you can go fuck yourself.” He catches sight of icy blue eyes rolling at him, accompanied by a light sigh, and he smirks just a little. “That goes double for you, Detective A.”

Anderson rocks back on his heels a fraction and raises an eyebrow, ignoring the few people who swivel to look at him. There’s something in his gaze, something questioning. Reed wonders if the man can somehow tell that he’s broken the wall of his programming, or if he just considers it a typical reaction for him like everyone else seems to be assuming.

The Lieutenant steps in front of the board to erase Reed’s name from the list of backup and then he studies it quietly for a moment. Actually, everyone seems to be doing what they’re doing quietly now, like his announcement had siphoned the volume from the room.

It kinda… _feels_ quiet, too? Like the occupants of the room are subdued. He isn’t sure why. He steps to the edge of the table, ready to just jump down, but Officer Chen is holding out her hand to him. He tilts his head at her. It’s only a height of 30 inches. Leaping down without assistance will not negatively affect any of his systems. He sweeps his eyes out into the room, feeling like he’s searching for something to inform his decision. He doesn’t find anything helpful until he happens to look at his Anderson again, the detective watching him closely.

He takes Officer Chen’s hand and allows her to take some of his weight as she guides him down from the table. Detective Anderson appears both pleased and disgruntled.

Hank is staring at him.

There’s no communication ping though, so… he’ll ignore it. If Hank wants to talk to him, then he can start the conversation.

Reed isn’t going to hold his breath for that though, he’s got other stuff to occupy his time. He wants to know what further information was acquired that lead them to decide to move on the red ice operation tonight, because clearly something has changed since yesterday.

Any one of the androids in the room would be able to interface and tell him in a few milliseconds.

But he finds himself slipping through the crowd towards Anderson, the man speaking softly with one of the youngest officers in the room and completely oblivious to his approach.

He has to nudge a few humans out of his path, murmuring an _“excuse me”_ and a slightly louder _“sorry”_ when he steps forwards at the same time someone steps back. The slope of Anderson’s shoulders changes at the sound of his voice, and the young officer shuffles her feet as she glances past Anderson and catches sight of him.

“Go talk to Chen,” Anderson suggests to the officer, and she nods quickly, turning to hurry the way Reed had come. “That was quite the display,” he says, shifting his body towards Reed a little.

He shrugs, gaze on the big board as the Lieutenant finally raises a marker to the floor plans. The man moves, and it’s clear that **REED** is printed neatly beside **Det AND.** Took him long enough to decide, as if there's anywhere else that Reed could be. “Got what I was aiming for though.” He shies away from using the word _want_ just yet, even though he’s said it before. He’s never quite meant it before. He isn’t sure if he feels comfortable with the idea of saying it and meaning it.

Preliminary conclusion: emotions are ridiculous and make things complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's be honest, Nines probably knows... he is a detective after all, and the one who's spent two weeks with the android glued to his side.
> 
> (aside from North, who could also probably tell within thirty seconds of seeing/interacting with him now.)  
> SO! I've been getting more attached to North over the past days/week, so guess what! this chick's been working on annoooootherrrrr fic!!!  
> whoops?
> 
> also? drop me a line if you have any comments on the formatting style I've added in i.e. for the start-up sequence and stuff

**Author's Note:**

> tentatively 3 chaptered
> 
> obviously, Reed is going to be okay, as he keeps asserting. Ch 2 is slated to pick up as he reboots after emergency stasis and repairs.
> 
> Ch 3 as a concept is fun, but I don't have much in mind quite yet. As I'm done exams and papers etc for this term, maybe my brain will finish resetting from 'school' to 'dbh fanfic has taken over my life'
> 
> (lemme know if you have any ideas for Ch 3: Continuing Deviancy!)
> 
> (also, I get emails for all kudos and comments and I just- *dead* it's just incredible to me how many people are enjoying these things I write! I won't necessarily say it directly motivates me to write more, because my brain keeps throwing ideas at me even when I don't need any new ones, but feedback in any form is just. really really really great and affirming to see. it's confirmation that the things I write, people are actually looking for stuff like it, and it's enjoyed)


End file.
